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Aug 2014
Momma can I tell you a secret?
But first we have to turn the lights out.
It's only in the dark I can escape the look in your eyes that haunts me in my bed room.
Momma can I confide in you?
Promise me not to look at me the way that you do when I whisper that my lover wears perfume.
She gives me utmost absolution and she loves me with the lights on.
Momma it hurts you so take me to church.
I'll put on my best and apologize for every time I'll touch her tonight.
Because I was born sick.
Good god.
Please spare me my life.
Grey Wilde
Written by
Grey Wilde  Chicago
(Chicago)   
286
     Lior Gavra and ---
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